


The Hip Avengers

by iwannabe



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Gord Downie is a Canadian Treasure, Tragically Hip songs, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwannabe/pseuds/iwannabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are all little glimpses at different points of time set to The Tragically Hip songs.  Gord Downie is the lead singer and is was announced in May of this year he has brain cancer.  Canadians everywhere celebrated with him with his final tour.  I will put links in the notes and other relevant information about the song/vignette.  Enjoy! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hip Avengers

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Avengers related tour through The Tragically Hips awesome songs. If you haven't heard of them before, PLEASE RUN (DO NOT WALK) to your closest media viewer/mp3 software of your choice and have a listen!

He stood in front of the blond haired man with the stern face, his weapon pointed to the floor.  The man inhaled and released slowly and turned to the two guards with drawn weapons.

 

“Relieve the Asset of the weapon.”

 

The two guards stepped forward and took the gun away from him and retreated to step behind the blond haired man.

“Mission report,” the man barked.

 

He raised his head, scruffy, dirty hair swinging into his periphery as he stared at the man and spoke.

 

“Target A eliminated on site.  Target B eliminated 100 yards from site.”

 

The blond haired man smiled tersely and nodded, “Good.  You have done Hydra’s good work. Refuel and retire for the evening.”

 

The blond haired man turned and walked out of the room as the two guards escorted him down a hall.  It was very old, the exposed brick showed the years of wear and he could see the slow leaking drips of water that snaked their way through the mortar to reach the floor.  The sounds of their boots on the floor as the marched accentuated the splash of the small puddles beneath their feet.  Twisting and turning through corridors, the hallway becoming narrower as they marched deeper into the tunnels ahead.

 

Soon enough the trio stopped in front of a small hollowed out portion of brick, normally used as an alcove but outfitted now with strong iron bars that were electrified when engaged.  He felt a push on his back and he walked through the door, a small cot in front of him.  To the side was a toilet, really no more than a bucket and a tiny sink with rust coloured water dripping slowly from the tap.

 

He turned as he heard the gate closed, in time to see only the boots of the guards return to where they had come from.  Breathing in, he smelled only must and mold and heard only the low buzz of the fluorescent light in the hall outside his cell.  There were no other sounds as the boots that were once so loud now muffled as they retreat.

 

On the cot was a tray with food and the Asset sat down and ate mechanically, thoughts blank.  He took only a few minutes to eat and passed the now empty tray through the slot at the bottom of the cell.  They would retrieve it later when he was asleep.

 

The Asset did not know how long he had been here; he had no recollection of a time where he was not here.  His day to day is simple: Rise, wash, fuel, report, mission accepted, perform mission, return, report, fuel, rest.  Every day is the same, at least until the Asset becomes dysfunctional and must be reset.  On those days there is no mission.  On those days it is Wipe and Reprogram. And if they have no use for him then it is Wipe and Cold.

 

He sits on the cot and one by one removes his boots and places them neatly beside it.  He turns to lie back and stares at the ceiling. He is careful to make no noise, careful to always follow orders.  Without order there is pain, so the Asset must follow orders. He regulates his breathing, in and out, slow and steady, his heart rate moving to a resting pace.  He does not think over often, to do so is dangerous.  He is only to follow orders. He scans the ceiling, looking at the patterns of exposed brick, following a minute crack in the mortar between bricks, categorizing the surface texture of each of them, some more worn than others. In the hall he hears the semi constant splash of water on the cement as one valiant drop makes its way to floor below. Hours pass in this way and the Asset finally closes his eyes.

 

In that final moment between sleep at wakefulness, the Asset thinks.

 

I want to come home.

**Author's Note:**

> Wheat Kings is about a man named David Milgaard, here is his Wikipedia entry: David Milgaard is a Canadian who was wrongfully convicted for the rape and murder of nursing assistant Gail Miller. He was released and compensated after spending 23 years in prison. He was born in Winnipeg. For the rest of the story go here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Milgaard
> 
> The link to the song with lyrics: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agr_wTBvhJs
> 
> It is easy to see how I would link Bucky with David.


End file.
